


(Not) Our Children

by bludnoemoloko



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 10:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7356784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bludnoemoloko/pseuds/bludnoemoloko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A practical guide to becoming parents to a horde of children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Not) Our Children

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Чужие дети](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6423880) by [Chif](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chif/pseuds/Chif). 



> Please note: This is a translation from Russian, and I am not a Native English speaker, so I'm prone to making mistakes. Feel free to correct me!
> 
> Written for my prompt: after returning from Afghanistan, Natasha gets a new hobby: she fishes out the superhero kids, checks their home environment, supplies them with quality gear (she can't stop them, at least they'll be protected) and lets them go with a promise that they'll come to her if they need anything. At the moment she has a whole net of little minions, but keeps it secret even from the Avengers, afraid that SHIELD would get to them. One day Natasha is kidnapped, and the kids come after her even quicker that the Avengers.

James took the massive door down with a perfected during the years of fighting kick, let Steve with his shield go first, rolled to the side, avoiding possible gunfire, and froze in a ridiculous stance side by side with his friend.

All the potential opponents were laying quietly in a row on the floor, resembling victims of a giant spider, while Natasha Stark, whom they’d come to rescue, was batting her eyes, holding tightly the ear of a kid in a red-and-blue costume in her right hand.

“Hi there,” he said cheerfully.

“Good evening,” Steve nodded automatically. Then he seemed to recover, and looked at Tasha strictly. “Iron Man, what is going on here?”

Tasha had opened her mouth, but the kid was faster.

“While you, gaffers, were trying to get off the couch, we’ve already saved Mom ourselves. Though she’s pissed off for some reason.”

James felt his eyebrows go up against his will, and was rather relieved that the fact wouldn’t be noticed because of his goggles.

Mom?

“Mom?” Steve voiced his thought blankly.

“Yeah,” the kid nodded. “So which one of you is going to be the D… ow ow ow!”

“It’s nothing yet,” Tasha said unsympathetically and pulled his ear down. “You’ll survive. Now explain to me, how did you manage to get to _Antarctica_!”

“It was magic!” the kid cried enthusiastically. “Sorcery! The great secret of fairy dust!”

“We stole the Quinjet,” a ringing voice added from behind James’ back. “Well, there was a bit of magic involved too. More of technological character, though.”

He turned around and saw a dark-haired girl in a blue-and-red costume with a yellow lightning across her torso.

“FRIDAY?” Tasha asked, narrowing her eyes, and the girl shrugged, unconcerned.

“Who else?”

“I’ll give her away to a community college along with DUM-E” Tasha promised heatedly and clicked her tongue. “Where are the others?”

“They were very flustered by Captain America’s presence. Too afraid to show up.” She rolled her eyes. “Especially Patriot.”

“And you’re not?” James asked suddenly.

The girl threw him an insulted look and answered:

“I prefer Captain Marvel.”

“And I prefer my ear,” the boy announced loudly. “Which will be hopelessly damaged quite soon!”

Tasha sighed heavily and let him go.

“Right now I’m going to close my eyes, count to three, and when I open, I will not see any of you here.” She said. “You will vanish without a trace, and the Quinjet will be returned to its rightful place. Am I clear?”

The kids looked at each other and chorused:

“Yes, Mom!”

Tasha looked as if she wasn’t quite sure whether she should laugh or cry. However, she closed her eyes and began counting down:

“One.”

The boy shot a string of web from his right wrist.

“Two.”

He grabbed the girl.

“Three.”

They both were gone out of sight.

Tasha didn’t open her eyes for another several moments, until she heard the stolen Quinjet taking off in the distance.

“Stark,” Steve said slowly. “What the heck is going on?”

James could only nod in agreement.

“It’s a very long story,” she answered. “Which I’m not telling, because I’m going to deny that these children had been here till the very end.”

Steve and James exchanged glances, completely lost for words.

***

Tasha, true to her words, kept her mouth shut about the incident.

In the version of the events she told Fury, she’d been saved by the Avengers, and the presence of the cocooned into strong spider web HYDRA soldiers didn’t perturb her in the least.

“How should I know what they’ve been doing in their lair?” she asked without batting an eye. “Frankly, I would advise you against getting into it. You can get a heart attack, Director, and you can’t fall ill. Remember, the last time you came down for a couple of hours, Cap and his pal dropped three Helicarriers into the Potomac. You just can’t take your eye off them.” She tapped her finger on the table, and Fury got the very expression on his face that, as James noticed, many people acquired eventually after spending some time with Tasha.

“The only one who’s going to give me a heart attack is you,” he said rather sincerely.

Tasha snorted and asked:

“Is my interrogation over?”

“Leave,” Fury waved his hand and turned away.

Tasha stuck her tongue childishly at his back, and James couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“You have something to add, Barnes?” Fury threw him a withering look.

“No, sir.”

Considering that James had wrecked the man’s car and shot him in the shoulder, he decided to keep off his bad side and stay down as much as possible.

“Everyone… may go.” Fury said.

James could’ve sworn that only Steve’s presence made him refrain from specifying where they should go in great detail.

***

Tasha entered the gym, pressing a phone to her ear.

“No,” she said. “I don’t care what you’ve heard, saying “everyone has it, so I want it too” won’t work.”

James raised his eyebrows, glancing at her and trying to remember why this felt so familiar. He missed a punch and ended up on the floor in the next moment. Judging by his bulged eyes, Scott was as equally surprised by the fact.

James jumped to his feet, seized him in a couple of motions and continued listening to the conversation.

“You little blackmailer, I said no. I know that you can, but grow up a little first.”

That was it. Tasha sounded just like James’ mother did when he had been going to do something incredibly stupid.

“Enough,” she said a couple of minutes later. “If you go on complaining, I’ll send Mark-31 which has babysitting function to you… No, that’s not cool, Harley, Jesus Christ. Give the phone to your mother, and I…” she pulled her phone away, looked at the darkened screen with a smirk and muttered quietly, “The only threat that works.”

James furrowed his brow further, and memorized the new name.

***

“Why am I have to be the one to approve interns?” There was yearning in Tasha’s voice. James looked up from his book.

“Because,” Pepper sighed, nudging a stack of folders closer to her, “Last year when they had been on a tour in the labs, you turned up nearby, gave them an express-test, after passing which one could claim a doctorate, said that they had no future and announced that you were going to pick them out yourself, as you clearly couldn’t rely on anyone in his crucible task. Does that ring any bells?”

“Shit,” Tasha said and opened the first folder. “Not this one, for sure. And this one. And this. Seriously, she wants to marry a scientist, what the… Pepper, are you kidding me?”

“No,” Pepper smiled innocently.

Tasha narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah, I can see that. Alright. This one - yes, that one no, this one yes, and this… little shit, he’d told me he’d go to Osborn!”

“What?” Pepper lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “Do you know someone in here?”

James couldn’t hold back his smile watching Tasha, who looked like a cat caught with a stolen fish in it’s mouth.

“It’s just a kid of my acquaintance’s… acquaintance.”

“Acquaintance’s acquaintance?” Pepper asked incredulously.

“Well yeah,” Tasha nodded, jerked her hand awkwardly and dropped the folders on the floor, completely messing them up.

***

“You sure they don’t bother you?” Tasha asked a beautiful elderly woman. The woman waved her off with a theatrical gesture, and it occurred to James that he had seen her somewhere before.

“At my age, darling”, the woman answered in a trained voice. “One begins to value the presence of the young in their life. With my contemporaries, there’s nothing left for me but to lie down and die.”

“Aunt Angie,” Tasha was indignant. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

“I’m so old I could play as that old slag from ‘Titanic’.” She laughed.

“Oh, sure,” Tasha chuckled. “You were too young when ‘Titanic’ had come out.”

“That’s right, flatter these old bones, what else can you do? The kids behave, though,” she continued. “But I have to admit that Jessica has your personality, so no one can outargue her… If she’s gotten something into her head, the rest of the world can go hang.”

Tasha rolled her eyes, and noticed James.

“Oh, Barnes!” she waved at him, urging to come down. “Aunt Angie, here’s the fellow you’ll enjoy looking at.”

“Good afternoon,” James said, and kissed explicitly extended hand. “James Barnes.”

“ _Angela_ _Martinelli,” she introduced herself._

_Of course. How could James not recognize her?_

_“We watched your movie not so long ago,” he said._

_“I hope you enjoyed it?” she glanced at him_ flirtatiously, making James fluster, as for the last seventy years women acted a bit differently around him.

“Aunt Angie,” Tasha laughed. “You’re incredible.”

“What else can I do, darling,” she smirked. “I’ve always told you it’s never late for a woman to marry…”

“But it’s important to divorce in time, so one would live happily ever after for sure,” Tasha finished. “Yes, I remember. Please, don’t teach this to Jessie.”

“Pf,” Angela snorted. “As you say. Then I’ll teach this to Teddy. He might need it, this kind of marriages are legal now too.”

‘Oh,” Tasha lifted her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Trust me, darling, I have a good eye for this kind of things,” she assured Tasha and threw a sly look at James. “Now Mr. Barnes here…”

“Auntie!”

***

“Sweetie, I’m too sober to talk about sixteen-year-old boys,” Tasha said, and James turned to look at her.

She froze in the kitchen door, looking at him with wide eyes, and then clearly decided that he could be ignored.

“You know what? Fuck it,” she said into the phone. “Some things don’t change with years, so go on.”

James raised an eyebrow, and Tasha shrugged her shoulders. She walked past him, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder, and turned on the coffee maker with one hand, taking out the mug with the other.

“Uhuh,” she agreed. “That certainly speaks in his favour… No, dear, it’s important not to overdo it, you don’t want people to think that you stuffed your bra with socks.” James choked on a cookie. Tasha heartily slapped him on his back and continued. “I know that it’s all natural, but how are you going to explain it to the others?.. Well, okay, wait a second, I’ll ask Barnes. Barnes,” Tasha turned her head to him. “What breast size do men prefer?”

James wanted to joke that he couldn’t say for all men and he personally preferred that the said breast was in his hands, but his gaze involuntarily travelled lower, focusing on the conversation topic, and Tasha punched him in the shoulder.

“Every size has it’s own advantages,” he finally said.

Tasha rolled her eyes and said into the phone:

“Heard that?” she bit her lip and snorted. “I agree, he is ninety-nine, and that’s not an argument. I’ll go look for someone younger. Or I’ll just ask Ca… No? As you say, honey.”

Tasha put the phone into her pocket and sipped at her coffee with pleasure, making a quiet happy sigh. James offered her a cookie and said carefully:

“If you ever need help with them, you can always rely on me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she sniffed.

And squeezed his hand in gratitude.

***

“Ask her out for a date already,” Steve said, when James was looking after leaving Tasha, as usual.

“What?”

“A date,” Steve said slowly. “You, her, dinner, dancing… Bucky, why am I the one telling you this? You the experienced one here.”

James snorted.

“My methods may be a bit outdated. Also… why would she need me?” he said and looked down at his hands, not ready for the pity.

Steve gave him a light smack on the back of his head, making it painless, but a bit offensive.

“Don’t be an idiot,” he said in the most heartfelt voice he could master. “If you don’t say something in time, you may never get another opportunity. What if one of you dies tomorrow? Or doesn’t die, but stays in the ice for long seventy years just to wake up and find out that the love of his life lived a happy long life _without him_. What are you going to do then?”

For several moments James looked at him, dumbfounded, then sighed and covered his face with a hand.

“Only you, Stevie,” he marveled. “Only you could use you dumb heroic feat for blackmailing.”

Steve hummed and asked with interest:

“Did it work?”

James threw him a sideway glance in mock irritation and nodded.

“Sure did, punk.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

***

“Aw man,” there was a disappointed voice, making James look away from Tasha to find a familiar kid in blue-and red costume, dangling upside-down from the ceiling. “I was betting that Cap would become Dad.”

“Go away, or I’m telling everyone your name,” Tasha said, putting a hand on James’ cheek, making him face her again, and reached out for another kiss.

“Okay, okay,” the kid agreed. “So we’re not going to save Shorty? I mean, why should we, let him pull though himself.”

Tasha pulled away, pressed her forehead into James’ shoulder for a moment and sighed heavily.

“I have eight kids,” she said. “I didn’t give birth to them, but they’re all mine.”

“I know,” James nodded. “I promised I’d help you.”

***

Steve greeted everyone, walked past them, poured himself a glass of milk and started spreading butter over the toast, as he finally registered what was happening.

He turned back slowly, and looked over the bunch of teenagers, chaired by James.

“What the?..”

“We’re having a family council type of thing, though Mom doesn’t know about it,” Harley explained. “Because if she does, she’ll cut Dad’s ba…”

“Oh, behave, would you?” Kate slapped a hand over his mouth.

Steve looked at them for a couple of moments with unreadable expression, then shift his look at James.

“Um. Bucky?”

“They’re upsetting Tasha,” he shrugged tranquilly. “So here I’m telling them what I did to dumb punks in the thirties.”

“He’s talking about you, Cap,” Peter explained, as if Steve couldn’t tell that himself.

“An all of them?..”

“Hers,” James answered. “Mine now, too, in a way. Isn’t it right, punks?”

The kids agreed in a discordant chorus. Steve covered his eyes, counting to ten in his head. He knew James well enough to be terrified of the thought that he could influence the new generation.

James also knew Steve, so he couldn’t hold an understanding chuckle.

“Fury will be ecstatic,” Steve announced at last.

Oh yes, James completely agreed with that. There was a big surprise for the Director of SHIELD. Though only when the kids would grow up a bit.

**Author's Note:**

> Natasha Stark's kids:  
> Harley Kinner from IM3, an 8-year-old with great potential;  
> Peter Parker and his clones - Jessica Drew and Ben Reilly, a whole spider farm which Tasha was surprised to get;  
> Kamala Khan, Miss Marvel and a big Carol fan;  
> Teddy Altman, the Hulking who never touched the serum;  
> Kate Bishop, Hawkeye among the kids;  
> Elijah Bradley, Patriot, the future favorite of Cap's.


End file.
